Do you want a new Punch-Out! on the Switch? Me too.


It came quickly, and it came suddenly. Joe woke up that morning feeling absolutely dreadful. Everything from his head to his bones was aching. He weakly pushed himself upright and looked around the room. The sun was barely rising, and the clock read 6:56. He groaned; this was terrible. Of all the people to suddenly become ill, it had to be him! Why, who would look after Katrina?

He put a hand over his face and rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to soothe his headache. Worrying already made him feel lousy, so worrying with this awful flu would have just been unbearable. Surely it wasn't that bad, and he could still mind his daughter.

Then the hall light clicked on, and he found himself recoiling as the light shot pain through his head like a bullet. Nope; it was definitely the stay-in-bed kind of day. He squinted at the doorway, and could just barely make out Katrina's tiny silhouette.

"Katrina?" Joe croaked his daughter's name. "C'est très tôt, pourquoi es-tu debout?" (It's very early, why are you up?)

"I woke up and couldn't go back asleep," mumbled Katrina, still sleepy. She came into the room and pulled herself onto his bed.

"Je me suis aussi réveillée trop tôt," whispered Joe, trying not to strain his voice. (I also woke up too early.)

Katrina gave him a funny look. "Daddy, your nose is red like strawberries. It's not supposed to look like that."

"Je sais," said Joe. "Je suis désolé, Katie, mais je me sens tellement malade ce matin." (I know. I'm sorry, Katie, but I feel terribly sick this morning.)

"Oh." Katrina crawled closer to his side. "Would a hug make it better?"

"Je suppose que oui…" Katrina snuggled into her father's lap and wrapped her arms around him. "Mais attention, ma belle, tu pourrais attraper cette grippe aussi." (I suppose so...but careful, sweetie, you could catch this flu too.) Katrina seemed to pay no mind to this warning, as she still clung to him. And he didn't mind; having her there put him at ease.

The phone rang. Joe winced at the sound. Katrina got down and went to pick it up. He could vaguely make out her little voice saying hello, and before long, she came shuffling back. "There's no school today. There's too much snow everywhere from last night."

That's right; they had gotten buried in snow the night before, and if he remembered correctly, it was supposed to start up again later this morning. Okay, so Katrina was going to be at home today. That was good and bad. Good to have his daughter here, where she's warm, safe, and happy, but bad because he barely felt able to stand up.

"Y'know, the sky's a very pretty colour when the sun rises," said Katrina, seemingly out of nowhere. Not like that was abnormal; she had always had a short attention span. She opened the curtains, so her father could see too. She was right; the sky was a lovely shade of tangerine orange melting into cerise pink studded with dark wisps of clouds. It was like looking at a painting.

"C'est si belle, chérie." As stressful as the day was going to be, having his daughter there made Joe feel at least a little bit better. (It's very beautiful, love.)


Over in the arena, things were starting to get into the groove. Everything was set up for any fights they might have that day.

In the front lobby, Pierce's attention was caught by a young man approaching him. He was tall and slender, with the wispy beginnings of a moustache on his lip.

"सुप्रभात सर।," he said. "क्या मैं सही जगह पहुँच गया हूँ?" (Good morning, sir. Am I in the right place?)

"If you were looking for the WVBA, then yes." Pierce shook his hand. "Pierce Adamson."

"मेरा नाम अमर खान है।." Amar gave him a warm smile. "मैं शुरुआत करने के लिए उत्साहित हूं।." (My name is Amar Khan. I'm excited to get started.)

"Alright," said Pierce, "usually we start new guys against Joseph Beaufort, but we haven't seen him yet today." He turned to look behind him. "Viktor! Can you call Joe, I don't think he's here yet."

Von Kaiser nodded, and dialed the number into the phone. It rang twice before picking up. "Hello?" A little voice tittered; Katrina.

"Guten Morgen, Katrina. Ist dein Vater da?" (Good morning, Katrina. Is your father there?) What was Katrina doing at home at 8:30 am on a Friday?

"Yeah, daddy's here, but he's in bed," said Katrina. "He's sick."

"Oh, das ist schrecklich," said Von Kaiser. "Kann ich mit ihm reden?" (Oh, that's terrible. Can I speak to him?)

"Uh-huh." The line went quiet, safe for rapid little footsteps and a muffled 'it's for you'. Then he heard Joe's voice. "Bonjour?"

"Meine Güte, du klingst schrecklich." (Gosh, you sound awful.) Von Kaiser sighed. "Wir haben einen neuen Typen und sie wollen, dass du gegen ihn kämpfst." (We got a new guy today, and they want you to fight him.)

"Oh, Viktor, je suis tellement désolé, mais je ne peux pas," moaned Joe, "je me sens horrible. Tout fait mal; ma gorge, ma tête-" (Oh, Viktor, I'm terribly sorry, but I can't. I feel horrible. Everything hurts; my throat, my head-)

"Hörzu, Joseph, ich glaube dir. Ich werde bald da sein." (Listen, Joseph, I believe you. I'll be there soon.) Von Kaiser hung up and brushed past Pierce and Amar. "Er kommt nicht. Er ist sehr krank." (He's not coming. He's very sick.)

"Wait, where are you going?" Pierce called after him.

"Machst du Witze?" Von Kaiser turned back for a moment. "Er ist allein, nur mit seinem Sechsjährigen da. Sie brauchen mich beide." (Are you kidding? He's alone, with only his six-year-old there. They both need me.) With that, off he went.

"Great," grumbled Pierce. Now they were two boxers down. He turned to Amar. "Look, I'll spar with you for your first match. We'll get you set up with our regular guy once he's available."

After checking and verifying his papers, Pierce stepped into the ring to fight a match against Amar; or as he called himself, Great Tiger.


The snow was beginning to come down again, but luckily, Von Kaiser had made it before it got really bad. He let himself in. It was eerily quiet inside; as if only the ghosts of his dear friends remained. "Hallo?" He called. Surely Joe and Katrina couldn't have gone anywhere that soon; especially not in this cold and with Joe's condition. He looked around, and figured they might be upstairs. Upon investigation, he found he was correct; Joe hadn't been out of bed yet, and Katrina was curled up in his arms. Both were lightly napping.

Katrina blinked her big brown eyes open when she heard him enter, and when she saw him, she nudged her father awake. "Vikky's here," she said quietly. Joe rubbed his eyes, and a bit of light seemed to come back to him when he saw his good companion by his side.

"Oh, Viktor, je te dois beaucoup de mercis," said Joe with a weak smile. He was incredibly grateful that Von Kaiser had come over. "Je ne savais pas ce que je ferais sans toi." (Oh, Viktor, I owe you a lot of thanks. I don't know what I would have done without you.)

"Wie fühlst du dich?" Von Kaiser wanted to get straight to the point. "Halsschmerzen, Kopfschmerzen. Was ist noch falsch?" (How do you feel? Sore throat, headache; what else is wrong?)

"J'ai la tête qui tourne," mumbled Joe, "et je me sens terriblement nauséeux, je ne pense pas que je peux manger un chose." (My head is spinning, and I feel terribly nauseated. I don't think I could eat a thing.)

Von Kaiser took his wrist and pressed a thumb on the inside, feeling for a pulse. His heartbeat was normal, if a bit feeble. He beckoned for Katrina to find the thermometer, and after a temperature check, the readings came out rather distressing; 39.5℃.

"Du bist hart runtergekommen, nicht wahr?" (You've crashed hard, haven't you?) Von Kaiser pulled Joe into a one-armed hug. Joe laid his head on his shoulder and hoped that the hot feeling in his face was just fever.

"Vikky, is daddy gonna be okay?" The worried look in Katrina's eyes told Von Kaiser that she was hoping for good news.

"Es wird ihm gut gehen. Er braucht nur etwas Ruhe." (He'll be fine. He just needs some rest.) Von Kaiser pulled back a bit, and noticed that even with a thick blanket and his own body heat, Joe was still trembling like a shy puppy. "Ist dir kalt?" (Are you cold?)

"Oui! Terriblement, désespérément froid." Joe shrunk into himself when he saw concern spread across Von Kaiser and Katrina's faces. "...Mais ce n'est pas un grave problème." (Yes! Dreadfully, desperately cold. ...But it's not a big deal.)

"Oh nein, fang nicht an an dir zu zweifeln. Du bist krank, du musst warm sein." (Oh, no, don't you start to doubt yourself. You're sick, you need to be warm.) Von Kaiser scooped up Joe, blanket and all, and brought him downstairs to the living room, closer to the central heat of the house. Katrina trailed behind him, amused to see someone carry her father like he often carried her. Joe mumbled a weak merci as Von Kaiser laid him down on the couch.

"Do you think watching a show will make him feel better?" Katrina asked.

"Nun, wenn überhaupt, wird es ihn davon ablenken." (If anything, it will take his mind off it.) The three sat together, and found that a new family sitcom was premiering that morning. Intrigued, they tuned in. It was a cute little show, with lots of funny jokes for the adults, and a six-year-old girl character that Katrina found herself getting very attached to. It made the whole lot of them feel a whole lot better.


Back at the arena, Pierce was desperately regretting entering the ring. Great Tiger was impossible to catch!

"मैं तेज़ हूँ, नहीं?" He smirked. (I'm fast, no?)

"Yeah," gasped Pierce, dropping to his knees. One more down, and it would be a TKO for him. Curse after curse raged through his mind. Joseph Beaufort, you are gonna pay for this!


The snowstorm was starting to pick back up again outside, but Von Kaiser and the Beauforts were warm inside. Joe was getting some much-needed sleep, while Katrina showed Von Kaiser the book they were reading in her class. Almost like clockwork, Joe began to stir as Katrina reached the point at which they had left off the previous day. Von Kaiser stood up. "Dein Vater wird bald aufwachen. Ich mache ihm Tee." (Your father will wake up soon. I'll make him some tea.)

"What kind of tea?" Katrina cocked her head.

"Ingwer. Es wird seinen Magen beruhigen." (Ginger. It will soothe his belly.) He went into the kitchen. Katrina put her book back into her bookbag, and heard her father mumbling sleepily. She went to his side as he woke up, disoriented.

"Où suis-je?" (Where am I?) Joe looked around the room.

"We're downstairs, daddy," said Katrina.

"Oh...oui, je me souviens maintenant." (Oh...yes, I remember now.) He shook his head a bit to set himself straight. At that point, Von Kaiser came back with tea for three. Each gently sipped their sweet elixir.


Back at the arena, Pierce had had just about enough of these shenanigans and dropped to his knees yet again. TKO.

"आप बहुत निष्पक्ष खेल हैं।." (You are a fair opponent.) Great Tiger shook his hand. Pierce did not respond. He was too busy thinking of which opponent would be the hardest to pit Joe against next.


The storm had hit hard. Outside, thick white flakes the size of grapes beat down on the street at a rapid pace. Katrina watched with a spark of awe in her eyes. That was a lot of snow.

Her attention diverted away from the window when she heard her father cough harshly. Except unlike normally, he didn't stop at two or even three; he just kept going. He sounded like he was choking.

Von Kaiser went to his side and put a hand on his back. "Atme, Joseph!" (Breathe, Joseph!) Joe struggled for air through each cough, until he was finally able to breathe again. Von Kaiser took his hand. "Bist du in Ordnung?" (Are you okay?)

"J'avais l'impression que mon coeur allait exploser," gasped Joe. (I thought my heart would explode.) Seeing his daughter's fearful expression, he scooped her up and held her tight. "Je suis tellement désolée de t'avoir effrayé, ma belle. Je t'adore." (I'm so sorry for scaring you, darling. I love you.)

"Ihr Zustand verschlechtert sich." Von Kaiser stood up. "Ich werde einen Arzt rufen." (Your condition is getting worse. I'll call a doctor.) He dialed the number for a local clinic and waited for someone to pick up.

Katrina laid her head down and squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe if she wished hard enough, everything would go back to normal. She could barely hear what Von Kaiser was saying into the phone; she only picked up on the doctor's big-people words like "pre-scrip-shun" and "paw-see-bill new-mo-nia".

Finally, Von Kaiser came back into the living room. "Der Arzt hält um 14:00 Uhr ein Rezept für Sie bereit." (The doctor will have a prescription ready for you at 2:00.)

"Tu es vraiment gentil," said Joe softly. (You are very kind.) His voice was little more than a raspy croak. He held Katrina and stroked her hair, trying to ease her nerves.


It was almost 2 o'clock, and the snow was not letting up. Von Kaiser was pacing back and forth down the hallway. He was going to have to go out in that weather to get Joe's medicine. The clinic wasn't far; in fact, he could walk there. Still, he wasn't quite sure if he had it in him to leave his dear friend alone when he was so gravely ill. And what about Katrina? What could she do if, heaven forbid, something happened while he was gone?

As he passed the doorway to the living room once more, the Beauforts caught his eye. Both were asleep. Joe was pale, like only a hollow shell of himself was really there. Katrina was curled up in his arms, just like she had been that morning. He clenched his jaw. It was a tough choice, but he had to do it. He nudged Katrina.

"Ich hole die Medizin deines Vaters. Wenn etwas passiert, nimmst du den Hörer ab und ruft die Nummer an, die ich auf das Papier geschrieben habe." (I'm going for your father's medicine. If anything happens, you pick up the phone and call the number I wrote on the paper.)

Katrina nodded, and laid her head back down. Von Kaiser was at ease. He knew that would help; nobody could soothe Joe's fragile nerves better than her. Alright, enough stalling; time to go get that prescription. He geared up and set out into the cold January wind.


At the pharmacy register, Judy Dahl tapped her finger on the counter. Because of the snow, customers were scarce. She wasn't sure if she should be grateful that people were staying inside where they were safe, or worried that people might not have access to vital medicine.

She jumped a bit when she heard the door open. A redheaded man with a moustache entered the building. He had little clumps of snow all over him. Judy jumped back into customer service mode. "Can I help you?"

"Ich bin hier, um ein Rezept für Joseph Beaufort abzuholen," said the man. (I'm here to pick up a prescription for Joseph Beaufort.)

"Okay, Joseph," said Judy. "I have it in the back."

"Nein, ich bin nicht Joseph," said the man. "Ich bin Viktor, ein Freund. Joseph ist zu krank, um es selbst zu bekommen." (No, I'm not Joseph. I'm Viktor, a friend. Joseph is too ill to get it himself.)

"Oh, that's too bad," said Judy, handing him the medicine. "But it's very kind of you to get his medicine."

"Danke," said Viktor. (Thank you.)


Joe found himself waking up woozy, like everything around him was blurred. He could scarcely make out Katrina on the other side of the couch, looking at a flyer from many years back.

"Daddy, is this you?" Katrina pointed to an image in the paper. Joe rubbed his eyes and looked at it. It was a flyer from his first fight against Von Kaiser.

"Oui, ça c'est moi," said Joe. "C'était d'un match qui se passe avant ta naissance." (Yes, that's me. It was from a match that happened before you were born.)

They both jumped a bit when the door opened. Von Kaiser had returned with the medicine. "Oh, Viktor, je ne peux pas remercier assez," said Joe, sitting up. (Oh, Viktor, I can't thank you enough.)

"Es war nichts," said Von Kaiser, pulling his gear off. (It was nothing.) He got Joe to take his medicine.

"Tu es tellement brave pour retrouver cette médecine dans cette neige," said Joe with a warm smile. (You're very brave to get this medicine in this snow.)

"Ich kümmere mich um dich, Joseph. Ich konnte dich nicht so leiden lassen." (I care about you, Joseph. I couldn't let you suffer like that.) Von Kaiser pressed his forehead to Joe's, putting them both at ease.


Later in the evening, after Von Kaiser had brought Joe back upstairs and bid his farewells, Katrina crawled up into bed next to him with her favourite storybook. She wanted to read it to him in lieu of him reading her a bedtime story.

Once Katrina finished reading the story, she smoothed the blanket out over him and kissed his nose. "Good night, Daddy." She hopped off the bed and wandered off.

Joe smiled weakly as he watched her leave. Why, she was acting like his mother. He shook his head and softly chuckled as he let himself drift off.


Several days later, it was Wednesday. The snow had let up, Katrina was back in school, and Joe was feeling good as new. He entered the arena with a bit of a spring in his step and found Pierce waiting for him. "Bon matin, Pierce. Désolé d'être indisponible l'autre jour." (Good morning, Pierce. Sorry for being unavailable the other day.)

"Oh, it's fine," said Pierce with a smile that Joe thought he may be faking. "I set you up with the perfect match to make up for it." He ushered in Joe's opponent for that day...Soda Popinski.

"Uh, est-ce que ca c'est vraiment nécessaire?" Joe asked nervously. (Uh, is this really necessary?)

"Oh, yes it is," said Pierce with a smirk. Boy, this match was going to be very satisfying to watch...


Looks like poor Joe is gonna get his ass kicked once again. Oh well, c'est la vie!